


Through the Long Night

by LogieBear



Category: Murdoch Mysteries
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Nightmares, Spoilers for Episode: s12e07 Brother's Keeper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogieBear/pseuds/LogieBear
Summary: During a case out of town, George comforts Watts after a nightmare.





	Through the Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for Brother's Keeper. Please don't read this if you haven't seen it yet.  
> This episode destroyed me emotionally :-)

George could hear it from across the room. It had woken him up and at first, he had been angry to be so rudely awoken but now, now he was just concerned. Watts had been crying softly in his sleep for some time. It wasn't that George was a cold person and decided to leave him to sort himself out. It was more of an attempt to keep some of his friend's dignity intact. He was sure that Watts wouldn't want to know he had been seen like this, so he decided it best for them both if he didn't disturb him. However, it was becoming abundantly clearer by the minute that this wasn't going to just stop of its own accord anytime soon. "No, please, no." George nearly lept three feet in the air, he hadn't expected him to start talking in his sleep. "Please!" He was becoming more fervent by the second. George made up his mind.

Sneaking quietly, Crabtree carefully removed himself from his bed and tiptoed across to Watts' side of the room. 

"Sir," he ventured gently, "Sir, wake up." Nothing. Steeling himself, he softly prodded his companion's arm.

"Please, no!"

George removed his hand as if he had been burned. Did Detective Watts think he was trying to hurt him? The last thing he wanted to do was cause his friend more distress but the pitiful sobbing and whimpering were failing to stop so he tried again. Almost immediately Watts' eyes shot open and he lept back with a flinch. It took him a minute to gain composure and seemed to recognise who was in front of him.

"Is everything alright, constable?"

"I could ask you the same thing, sir."

Watts stared at him warily for sometime before dropping his gaze and attempting to surreptitiously wipe away his tears. "Yes- yes, I'm quite alright." 

Although he didn't sound alright to George, in fact, if he was pushed to say he'd say Watts sounded decidedly un-alright indeed. George wasn't sure how to approach this, unsure whether to take his words at face value and go back to bed or to try and comfort him. 

"Well if you're sure then," George said sceptically. Watts shrugged with a forced air of nonchalance but when Crabtree made to move he whimpered. Well, that was that then, he couldn't leave him in this state. George looked to his bed forlornly for a moment before focussing his attention on his colleague. 

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked softly. Watts shook his head vigorously. This entire situation was foreign to Crabtree, he'd never had to comfort another man in this way before. Save for maybe Henry as he was prone to flights of great emotion. In an attempt to comfort him, Crabtree put a hand on his shoulder and was taken aback by the pitifully grateful look Watts gave him. It was as if no one had given him any physical comfort in a long time, and, as George was realising with startling clarity, they probably hadn't. His parents were dead, as were his brothers, and his sister had abandoned him, the poor man had no one.

"Would you, um, would you like a hug?"

For one horrifying moment, George thought he'd crossed a line and gone too far before Watts practically launched himself at him, wrapped his arms around his neck and started sobbing into his shoulder. He was stunned into inaction for a moment before he wrapped his arms around the younger man and softly began to rub his back. Crabtree had never seen Detective Watts cry quite so much, his whole body was wracked with violent sobs so full of sorrow that George felt his heart slowly breaking. He moved his hand up to the back of Watts' head and stroked his hair tenderly. Purely on instinct, he placed a kiss on the top of his head. How did he come to have his superior officer cradled in his arms sobbing his eyes out, and why did he end up kissing him?

Slowly but surely Watts seemed to run out of tears to cry and quieted down until he was just left sniffling and taking in shaky, stuttering breaths as a child would. George continued to hold him until he pulled back, seemingly embarrassed by his outburst if his quickly reddening cheeks were any indication. As he sat there, steadfastly avoiding eye contact under the pretence of fidgeting with a loose thread, tear tracks still wet on his face, George was struck by just how young he suddenly looked. 

"Nigel Baker."

Ah. Now he understood. "Can you talk about it? My Aunts always said talking makes you feel better."

"He...He was h-hurting them, Danny and Hubert. And I couldn't stop him- I tried, I tried and tried but I couldn't, I begged him to stop, George," he stuttered desperately, sounding decidedly un-Watts-like.

"I believe you, Watts, it's not your fault."

"And then they were gone. So much blood," he looked faintly sick at the thought, "just like the photographs. Poor sweet boys." He took a shaky breath to calm himself. "After he had finished with them, he came for me. Just like when we were boys. Beating me for trying to stop him. Then he attacked me with his knife. I was scared." He looked almost embarrassed at that admission.

"How frightening! You're safe, Watts, it wasn't real. Doesn't make it less terrifying though, I suppose. I've had a fair few nightmares myself," George said, "One time I dreamed I was being chased by the abominable snowman if you've ever heard such nonsense! I don't know how I think these things up, my brain must have gotten mixed up with a sasquatch." Watts chuckled softly which George took as a good sign. "I also had many a sleepless night after Jackson." Watts hovered awkwardly for a moment before placing his hand on George's shoulder as the constable had done to him earlier. 

"I miss him."

"As do I. He was a good man."

When the Detective removed his hand George was struck with a thought. "You said "when we were boys", he bullied you also?" Watts nodded. "But why?"

"Nigel was only happy when he was causing pain. He picked on those who were different. He took exception to the way I walked and talked." He hunched in on himself further. George worded his next question as delicately as he could.

"So you've always walked this way?"

"Oh yes," he frowned, "I seem to remember my father being quite unhappy with it. I struggled to maintain eye contact as a child, it led me to stare at the floor. I've since corrected it but it's difficult to stand up straight now." He scratched his face. 

"And the way you talked?" Crabtree asked quite unnecessarily. He thought he understood. Watts said odd things and had an odd way of saying them. Altogether he was an odd sort of fellow, not that George held it against him. In fact, quite the opposite was true, he found the detective intensely interesting, even if he didn't understand what he was going on about half the time. 

"It has been made aware to me that I say strange things. How am I to change the things I say when they are merely the things I think? To be quite honest, given the chance to control my thoughts I am not sure that I would. Would I be me without my thoughts? Would it be worth the cost of my intrinsic nature to be liked?" He was starting to sound a lot more like himself now.

"Well I like you," said George earnestly which seemed to take Watts aback slightly. "I would miss you if you changed. You're a much better conversationalist than Higgins. And I'd wager the Station House would be quite boring without your rock collection and philosophies."

"Thank you, George. I believe I would miss you too. I don't think I would have anyone to talk to were it not for you." Crabtree's confusion must have shown as Watts hastened to explain, "Unless it is required, very few people in the Station House would choose to speak to me besides you. I would miss your interesting theories on the existence of aliens and other such creatures, were you to change." George felt a sudden surge of pity and affection for the young man. He truly had no friends. For all George griped about Henry at least he had a colleague he was close with. He also had Detective Murdoch whom he considered a friend, the same went for Dr Ogden. He was popular amongst the lads at the station and could count on them for conversation when he was bored. Whereas Watts really did only seem to have George. The lads thought he was peculiar and hadn't quite warmed up to him in the same way as they had with Murdoch yet. The Detective often seemed vexed by Watts' uncoordinated methods, and the Inspector likewise was exasperated with his poor manners.

"I'm sure they don't dislike you. It will just take time for them to warm to you. The lads weren't altogether too keen on Detective Murdoch when he first joined the station." Watts' eyebrows knitted together. "They thought he was strange, what with his inventions and finger marks and such. They just didn't understand him. But now everyone at the Station is very fond of him. They just don't understand you yet, but I'm sure they will. In fact, I would stake my motorcar on it!" He seemed to consider this quite intently for a time before nodding.

"Thank you, George... For everything. And I am sorry I cried on you." His cheeks flushed pink.

"Don't be sorry, I couldn't leave my friend to deal with his nightmares on his own," Crabtree reassured. The Detective's eyes filled with unshed tears and for a moment George thought he had said something terribly wrong until Watts flashed him a watery but bright smile. Evidently, he wasn't used to being considered someone's friend, the thought made George feel another suffocating wave of sorrow for the man before he hardened his resolve and promised himself that he would be the best friend he could to him. And if he was rewarded with smiles like that then it wouldn't be too hard to find motivation.

Detective Watts tried to suppress a yawn but Crabtree could see his eyelids were drooping. No doubt he was exhausted from having such an intense meltdown at, George checked the clock at the other side of the room, good heavens, two o'clock in the morning. They had work in a few hours, they were finally getting somewhere in this travelling case and George wanted to get as much work done as possible so they could return to Toronto. 

"Would you like to go back to sleep now?" He asked. Watts looked absolutely terrified at the prospect but stiffly nodded. George thought about the implications of what he was going to suggest for just a moment before deciding it was worth any awkwardness. "Move over. I'll sleep next to you. So you're not alone." To his surprise Watts didn't argue, he lay down under the covers and waited for him to do the same. He followed suit and soon they were lying side by side on the impossibly small bed, arms brushing against each other.

"Goodnight, sir-"

"Llewelyn. We are friends, it is unfair for me to call you by your given name but not to allow you to use mine. Please call me Llewelyn," said Watts sincerely. George beamed at him, it was pleasing to hear that he thought of him as a friend too.

"Goodnight, Llewelyn."

"Goodnight, George," he said softly, struggling to keep his eyelids open. As he drifted off to sleep he curled in closer to George and put he head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. George pushed Llewelyn's dishevelled hair out of his face and stroked it gently until his breathing slowed to long even breaths. 

George would be exhausted in the morning, but he reckoned it would be worth it to give his friend some respite from his demons, even just for a short while.

**Author's Note:**

> All criticism is welcome! :-D


End file.
